


now i'm ready

by hellodeer



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 19:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8546158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellodeer/pseuds/hellodeer
Summary: Yuuri is so nervous before his free skating he tries to get on the ice with his skate guards on. Viktor sighs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> from [this](http://kuro-ken.tumblr.com/post/152992802699/episode-7-official-preview-caption-from-the-yuri) post on tumblr:
> 
> "episode 7 official preview caption from the yuri on ice japanese website!! 
> 
> it says that yuuri is feeling the immense pressure of ranking no.1 for the cup of china short program, victor resorts to drastic measures to calm his nerves but can yuuri’s glass heart take it….?!
> 
> japanese twitter fans have discussed the possibility that victor’s “drastic measure” might be a kiss, in reference to the last time yuuri got nervous victor hugged him to calm him down, but this time it might be more than that!!!"
> 
> so i thought: what if the situation is so critical a kiss won't do it and viktor has to give yuuri a blowjob

When they get to the rink, Yuuri is so nervous he tries to get on the ice with his skate guards on. Viktor sighs. He’s been hugging Yuuri since the night before, crawled into his bed to hold him from behind and sing lullabies in his ear. He took Yuuri’s hand at breakfast and kissed each oh his knuckles, smiling sunnily at Yuuri’s flushed face. None of that seemed to help, because Yuuri is pulling at his hair with shaking fingers, his eyes lost and desperate.

So Viktor tugs on the sleeve of Yuuri’s jacket, says “C’mon, Yuuri,” and marches them to men’s restroom.

“What are we doing here,” Yuuri deadpans, confused and tired. Viktor shakes his head, pushes him to the middle stall and locks the door behind them.

Viktor cups Yuuri’s face with his hands. He’s beautiful, this boy, with his hair slicked back and no glasses, and he’s beautiful with his terrible bedhead and glasses on, too. His eyes are so big and brown and warm. Viktor smiles and kisses him.

Yuuri makes a muffled sound of surprise against Viktor’s mouth. Viktor licks Yuuri’s upper lip. Yuuri closes his eyes and wraps his arms around Viktor’s waist, slow and careful, so Viktor closes his eyes too.

They kiss and kiss and kiss. It’s been a long time coming, not since Viktor first appeared at the onsen and said “I’m gonna be your coach,” not even since Viktor took Yuuri and his dog to the beach and offered to be Yuuri’s boyfriend, but perhaps since Viktor said “I’m disappointed in you” and Yuuri answered with his best perfomance yet, bold and loud and brilliant, or since Makkachin started sleeping in Yuuri’s bed and following him around town and Viktor thought _yes, you’re absolutely right_.

Yuuri kisses like he skates, with bravery and resolution, hesitating only sometimes, triples turning into doubles. Viktor smiles, and when they break apart Yuuri is panting and flushed, eyes unfocused. It should be enough, but his shoulders are still stiff with tension, his hands fisting the back of Viktor’s suit.

“What am I gonna do with you, solnyshko?” Viktor asks, his forehead on Yuuri’s shoulder, meaning _I’d do anything for you_ and _I’ve never felt like this before_ and _I think I love you_.

“Viktor,” is all Yuuri says, one hand coming up to the back of Viktor’s neck, and the way Yuuri says his name like it is something precious and treasurable drives Viktor so wild he kisses Yuuri again and again and again and again and again.

Then his hand travels to the front of Yuuri’s trousers, where a small bulge is already forming. Yuuri gasps, fumbles to hold Viktor’s arm.

“W-Wait,” he stutters. Viktor has him flat against a wall, the blackness of his clothes colliding with the grey of the restroom. His hair is everywhere. A blush spreads from the tip of his ears to what Viktor can see of his neck and down, down, down. His eyes are huge and bright and lovely. Viktor falls, and he keeps falling. “What if someone comes in?”

Viktor laughs, kisses the corner of Yuuri’s lips. “Don’t worry,” he says. “They’re all watching the competition,” because they left the rink right when the first heat was about to start. He’s heard clapping three times, which gives him about twelve minutes for what he wants to do next, so:

He gets his hand inside Yuuri’s pants, past the thick forest of his pubic hair, and strokes his cock once, twice. Yuuri’s breathing hitches up in his throat. With his free hand, Viktor undoes the zipper on Yuuri’s trousers and lets them fall, pooling around their feet. Yuuri puts his hands on Viktor’s shoulders and squeezes, closing his eyes hard.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, hand no longer moving. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

He means it, and he wants Yuuri to know he means it. Yuuri opens his eyes and blinks at him. Viktor doesn’t smile, because he doesn’t know how to do that without looking playful and fake, a performer.

But Yuuri smiles, small and full of affection. He takes a deep breath.

“No,” he says. “You can go on.”

Viktor gives Yuuri a peck on the lips, drops to his knees and goes down on him.

He’s not totally erect yet, so Viktor holds the base of Yuuri’s cock and sucks the head into his mouth.

“Ah!” Yuuri says, and keeps saying it when Viktor tongues the slit happily, humming to himself.

Then someone walks in. Yuuri covers his mouth with both hands while the person walks past their stall. Viktor brushes the head of Yuuri’s penis against his lips, looking up at Yuuri’s slightly panicked face for instructions. They hear the sound of pissing. Yuuri nods, so Viktor winks at him and takes Yuuri into his mouth in earnest, bopping his head up and down and twisting his tongue around Yuuri’s dick.

This is not his first time at the rodeo, but it’s an entirely new experience feeling Yuuri squirm and vibrate above him, the heaviness and shape of Yuuri in his mouth, watching Yuuri’s flushed face and teary eyes. It’s something Viktor never thought he’d feel, this overwhelming desire and happiness and _love_. It’s thrilling and terrifying, Viktor wants to feel it all the time and never again.

The person in the restroom opens a tap. He mutters to himself in French, something about no soap. Viktor flicks Yuuri’s frenulum with the tip of his tongue. The guy walks out. Viktor takes Yuuri’s testicles in one hand and _squeezes_ , and Yuuri comes with a loud cry.

Viktor swallows so he won’t get come on his Armani suit. It’s bitter and salty. The stall smells of sweat and nerves and sex. Viktor loves it all.

Yuuri, boneless, slides down against the wall. Before he can reach the ground, Viktor reaches out and cushions Yuuri’s ass with his hands. Yuuri blinks at him.

“You can’t sit naked on this dirty floor,” he tuts, shaking his head.

Yuuri touches the top of Viktor’s head, his touch reverent and adoring.

Later, when it’s Yuuri’s turn to skate, he touches his forehead to Viktor’s, like he did the day before. Only this time he smiles, relaxed and happy and in love.

“Watch me,” he says, and Viktor wants to kiss him here, in front of the whole world, but he doesn’t.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else,” he whispers back, safe in the knowledge that he will kiss Yuuri later tonight, and tomorrow, and all the days after that.

**Author's Note:**

> don’t think for a SECOND yuuri doesn't get his revenge. he probably fucks viktor in a broom closet after he wins the grand prix, the press and their families and friends ten feet away
> 
> solnyshko means little sun. i don't speak russian (i tried learning, once, bought a book and everything. i lasted a week), so if that is incorrect, please let me know!
> 
> title from viktor's skating routine song, "aria: stay by my side and never leave me" (do you cry bc boy i sure do)


End file.
